Traveling Through The Winter
by Irene Gerke
Summary: This is a oneshot based on a painting by a friend. It is a descriptive narrative from Fai's POV. It is post manga and between appearances in Kobato and xxxholic. Kurofai implied


**Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles belongs to CLAMP**

**Support the mangakas and purchase the manga as it becomes available.**

**This story takes place post manga. Some time between when they make their appearance in episode 20 of the Kobato anime and when they appear in chapter 204.5 of xxxholic. **

**This story came about because of a painting by TsukinoChou on deviantart. **

**http : / / tsukinochou . deviantart . com / gallery / # / d2jiu8l**

**I titled the story after her painting I recommend you check out her gallery of work. **

**Happy Birthday Tsukino, I hope you like this.**

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-Traveling Through The Winter-

Fai stared at the window his eyes focused on the window's glass not seeing the scenery passing outside. Mentally he sighed allowing his eyes' focus to drift past the windowpane. Sleep was elusive though he could not name the cause.

It was just before dawn when the dark is heavy but not necessarily suffocating. Everything near him was quiet. The only sound the train's whistle calling into the night air. The sound had reminded him of sorrowful things but after the initial melancholy had passed it became comforting. Whispering in the distance, he could hear the answering call of another train. Like the voice of a trusted companion that does not mind the darkness calling out, "I am searching. I am moving. You are not alone, follow me."

The dark of the night imperceptibly dissolved into a grey morning light. The overcast winter sky promising there would be little difference in the illumination offered by the sun between it's first touch and it's peak.

With the lightening of the sky, the other passengers began to stir. Fai's gaze wandered over his companions. Across from him, Syaoran had moved slightly turning his face away from the window's light, Mokona tucked contentedly under one arm. From the corner of his eye, he could see Kurogane, his arms crossed, chin resting on his chest. His expression that of relaxed sleep, Fai was not fooled if he or Syaoran attempted to move past him into the aisle he would wake as though never asleep. Despite the increased noise and light, his companions slumbered on. The weariness that occasionally weighed upon them from the constant travel had not yet abated. He envied them their rest. Wishing he had been granted respite from his wakefulness. Since the train had left the press of humanity behind he had been distracted and restless.

Unwilling to disturb their sleep he turned back to the window. The constant hum of the other passengers becoming the silent solitude that can be found when surrounded by the voices of strangers.

He felt himself begin to relax, his eyes watching the monotone landscape they passed.

The snow covered fields and pastures had grudgingly given way to patches of trees that evolved into a forest of densely grown trees. Though the day's light was weak the snow covering the ground between the trees glittered pristine, undisturbed by living creatures. The trees crowded together becoming an impenetrable wall of varying shades of brown traced by touches of white.

The deeper the train's path carried them into the forest the closer the trees pressed to the tracks.

His eyes became fixated on the view outside, his breath catching in his throat. The tree's branches appeared to undergo a subtle shift of shape, becoming elegant and graceful arms reaching forward to close the distance between them.

Transfixed he placed an open hand against the window. The chill that seeped into his fingers and palm momentarily distracting him from the siren call from outside. Bemused he watched mist form a fine outline around his hand as the heat of his body caused condensation to coalesce on the window's surface. As if the cold were giving view of his aura. He frowned at the thought. His aura he knew was too stained to appear this pure. However, he did not remove his hand. Instead, his attention was drawn beyond the glass.

Possessed by wintertide and Skaði's servants the trees' aspect had become that of beckoning hands. Seductive and tempting they whispered for him to leave the safety and warmth behind, to come to where the cold could sting and caress. Bidding him to seek a sensual death hidden within their frozen depths.

Painfully exquisite heat enveloped the hand that had remained pressed against the draining cold of the window. Fai gasped as his body's demands for air that had been denied while he had been enthralled were met.

Mesmerized he turned from the view following the path of his pale hand now wrapped in the darker embrace of his companion's. No sound was exchanged as his numbed flesh was pressed between callused hands. He closed his eyes to the burn caused as the last visages of the cold were chafed from him.

The equilibrium restored to the temperature of his abused hand one of the hands holding his reached forward, pressing his chin upwards until his eyes met those of Kurogane.

They studied one another. Fai captivated by the red of Kurogane's irises. Like the varied colors of flames, his eyes seemed to encompass all the shades of red possible without dipping into the lighter shade of pink or rising into the darkness of black.

Kurogane's voice broke the silence and the enchantment of Skaði's winter that had held Fai in it's thrall.

"Tch, idiot," Kurogane snorted releasing both Fai's hand and his gaze.

A sincere smile twisted Fai's lips and filled his eyes.

"Ah, Kuro-sama," he mumbled through a yawn.

Kurogane raised an eyebrow before wrapping an arm about Fai's shoulders, drawing him close.

Shifting until comfortable, Fai gratefully found sleep's peace.

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Author's Notes:

Let's see two things:

The word wintertide is an archaic form of wintertime.

Skaði is the Norse Goddess of winter among other things.

It's my first Tsubasa fic so what do you think? It is a oneshot though when I finish my other story I am planning a longer story for this series.

I know there was virtually no dialog, only two lines at the end. I wanted this to be a descriptive narrative of the painting so that is why there was little character interaction.

I can't think of anything else to say except feedback is always desired.


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